


Fic Nuggets

by Moiself



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bachelor Auction, Baker!Enzo, Brat & Sparkles, Cassamore - Freeform, Established Relationship, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Hairdresser!Cass, Jealousy, Jeribrose, Kevin the Yorkie - Freeform, M/M, Misunderstandings, POV Second Person, Sickfic, Tiniest Hints of BDSM, ambreigns - Freeform, ambrollins - Freeform, friendly teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-07-21 18:31:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7398736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moiself/pseuds/Moiself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt fills, ficlets & drabbles originally posted to tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Howdy!

Exactly what it says in the summary, a handy home for prompt fills & other odds originally posted to my [tumblr](http://sortofgetit.tumblr.com/).

Ships, ratings & themes will vary, this collection will be tagged at the highest warning/rating of any ficlet posted to it.


	2. Jeribrose - I’ve been buying the wrong underwear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the Adventures of Brat & Sparkles verse.   
> Requested by penguinsstealingsanity (29k).

“Brat…baby…what the hell are you doing?”

Chris looked over the top of his paper to where Dean stood in front of the coffee maker, hips popping and swaying as he filled a mug.

“Huh?”

“Bit early for dancing?”

“I’m not dancing…”

Dean grabbed his mug and began making his way towards Chris, hips still twitching and gyrating, closing the distance with a few enthusiastic thrusts that left him between the older man’s spread legs.

“…I am enjoying the feel of a _soft, flexible elastic waistband that follows the contours of my body and a stretch blend fabric that mooooooooves with me._ ”

He rolled his hips again as he dragged out the word in his best last night infomercial voice. Chris set the paper on the table, giving Dean his full attention, letting him continue.

“Honestly babe, I thought you were full of bullshit, but I’m man enough to admit it, I’ve been buying the wrong underwear, these are great…”

“They mine?”

“Yeah, hope you don’t mind…I ran out so I grabbed these from the new box in your office. From the undies people?”

Chris took a closer look at what Dean was wearing and bit back a snigger.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“Didn’t you think these are a bit…I dunno…snug? Round front? Like they’re missing something?”

Dean glanced at Chris’s crotch then at his own, not sure what the older man meant.

“You have no pouch for your pecker, no bag for your balls, no tote for your tallywhacker… _that_ box was samples to take to Raw for the girls…”

“But it said boy shorts!”

“Which are for women. Hate to break it to you baby, you’re still wearing the wrong underwear…”

As the laughter Chris had been holding onto spilled free, Dean took a thoughtful sip from his coffee, shrugged and turned on his heel heading back towards the door.

“Wait…where are you going?”

Dean paused and looked back over his shoulder, a wicked smirk dimpling his cheeks.

“I’m gonna go see what else in that box fits me Sparkles…you coming?”

Chris was on his feet, hands plastered to his Brat’s ass, pushing him out of the room, before he even managed to finish the sentence.


	3. Jeribrose - It killed me to see you with him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by my jellybelly30, she left it up to me to pick a ship :) Who else but our beloved Jeribrose?

“Oh my fucking god Christopher! I cannot believe you.”

Dean flung the door to their apartment open with such force that it bounced back off the wall, almost catching him in the face.

Chris trudged into the hallway at his heels, his expression sheepish, locking the door behind him and following the stream of Dean’s muttering into the kitchen. He accepted the bottle of beer Dean offered to him, opening his mouth to speak before thinking better of it and taking a sip from his drink.

“Seriously Chris, what the hell? You took a swing at that guy. What if I hadn’t been able to stop you? Have you _any_ idea of the trouble that would have caused? It’s not like it used to be anymore, we can’t get away with that these days. What were you thinking?”

Dean folded his arms across his chest and stared at the older man, waiting for an explanation. Chris took another swig of beer, using the moment to gather his thoughts.

“That guy Dean. He was all over you. Every time I looked up he was…”

“Was what Chris? What was he that almost got him punched in the head and you all over the internet?”

“He looked…he looked like he wanted to fuck you over the bar right there and then…and you were just smiling right back at him. It killed me to see you with him.”

Dean crossed the kitchen, his irritation diminishing with every step closer to Chris, his hands coming to rest on the older man’s waist when he reached him, his voice softer now, no trace of anger remaining.

“Whoa there…I was not _with_ him. I was letting him buy me a drink. I was letting him flirt with me a little…you know, like we _agreed_?”

“I know…I didn’t realise I’d get so jealous. I’m sorry. You want to try it again? I’ll sweep in the way I’m supposed to, no violence towards innocent bystanders…promise.”

“Nah, even pretending to be interested in someone that’s not you sucked. I couldn’t get properly into it. The whole time I was thinking nope, and about how lucky I was to have you and wondering what was taking you so long…besides we can cross it off the list now, try something else instead.”

“Like what?”

Dean looked his lover dead in the eye, hands drifting to the buttons of the dress shirt he wore.

“You still have that maid costume…sir?”


	4. Ambrollins - Things you said when you thought I was asleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by anon.

“Kevin! Down boy! You’ll wake him!”

The little furball gave his daddy a look that made it very clear what he thought of that idea and made himself comfortable on Dean’s chest, fluffy head settling on his tiny paws.

“Fine! On your own head be it if he wakes up and tips you off the couch…don’t know why he’s there anyway. I’ve told him a thousand times to come to bed no matter what time his flight gets in at.”

Seth patted the two fuzzy heads he cared most about in the world as he passed by the sofa on his way to the kitchen.

“Suppose that tells me everything I need to know really doesn’t it? He thinks he’s just visiting, this thing we have is just killing time…when’s he going to figure I’m serious Kev? Why doesn’t he get it? All I want is for him to realise this could be his home. Here with me…his boyfriend.”

He sighed deeply as he entered the kitchen, mood sombre as he fixed two cups of coffee. Not quite ready to wake Dean just yet, he stared, unseeing, out of the window as he sipped at his mug.

His reverie was disturbed by an arm sliding around his waist and a stubbled chin resting on his shoulder. A wet nose nudged against his arm.

“Did you mean all those things you said when you thought I was asleep?”

“You weren’t?”

“Nope, and you didn’t answer my question…do you really not know how serious I am about you?”

Seth turned to face Dean properly, the sight of the sleep ruffled man carefully cradling a contented Kevin in one arm making him smile.

“You’re an idiot Seth, but you’re my idiot. I’m crazy in love with you…”

Kevin yipped.

“…and you too little dude. Now be a good boyfriend and grab my coffee there so we can go back to bed, drink up, maybe cuddle for a bit and then we’re going to make plans for me to get moved in.”

Dean headed off in the direction of the bedroom, chattering to Kevin as he walked, Seth trailing along behind happily in their wake.


	5. Cassamore - I think you're pregnant!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requested by irish-newzealand-idian-dutch :)

“Again Cass?!

Carmella rolled her eyes at the tall man as he stepped into the salon. He smiled sheepishly and glanced down at the white bakery box in his hands.

“What? I wanted something sweet with my coffee.”

“You’ve wanted something sweet with your coffee everyday this week…and last week too!”

Carmella’s customer glanced in the mirror and caught the name on the box.

“Realest Cakes? That’s the new place facing the bank isn’t it? Such a charming young man running it. What’s his name…Eddie? Elliot?”

“Enzo, Ms Carmichael.”

A shy smile crept over Cass’s face. In a salon full of mirrors he didn’t stand a chance of hiding it from the two women.

“Enzo…yes, charming. A little flamboyant for my tastes, but such a nice young man. Now I think of it, his uncle was the same. Not as outrageous mind you, but another charming Enzo. He ran the bakery when it was over on Poplar…”

“That’s you ready for the dryer, Ms Carmichael. Can I get you a cup of coffee? Perhaps with a little something from Colin’s box to go with it?”

“Oh yes please, Carmella dear…do you think he has any lobster tails? I was hooked on Amore’s lobster tails when I was pregnant with my Stephanie…my poor husband was in that bakery practically every day!”

Carmella burst out in a fit of giggles.

“That’s it Cass! I’ve worked it out! I think you’re pregnant! That explains all the cakes and cookies!”

She patted him on the belly as she wandered into the little kitchen to fetch her client’s coffee.

“Keep it up with those sweets and you’ll be looking it too soon…”

Cass rolled his eyes and swiped at her hand goodnaturedly . He glanced at the clock on the wall.

“Is that clock right ‘Mella? Ms Valentini is due in for her colour at ten, and it’s already ten past…she’s never late…”

Carmella stuck her head out of the kitchen.

“She called when you were out, she’s had to reschedule…I did text you about this…didn’t you get my message?”

“Didn’t hear my phone. Must be on silent…”

Cass patted down his pockets.

“My phone!”

He patted himself down again a second time, as if the first might have been wrong somehow.

“Settle down…where do you remember having it last?”

Carmella was the voice of reason.

“Well I definitely had it leaving the apartment this morning, and the only place I’ve been between there and here is…”

He was interrupted by a small leopard print whirlwind bursting through the salon door.

“Hey big guy! You lost something?”

The new arrival, the flamboyant baker Enzo, was holding out Cass’s phone.

“You got a message from a Princess Carmella…not that I read it, but I figured it must be important…so I thought I’d bring it to you instead of waiting for you to come back to the bakery for it…”

He gave a funny little shoulder shrug and bobbed his head as though he was psyching himself up for a fight, and in a failed attempt at nonchalance asked…

“She your girl?”

Mls Carmichael and Carmella exchanged a knowing look.

“She’s my boss…”

Cass wasn’t sure if the difficulty he had in understanding what the baker said next was due to the distance between Enzo’s mouth and his ears, the fact that he was incredibly distracted by the way his hands were flying everywhere or the sheer wall of words that fell from his lips.

He did pick up on a few key phrases; ‘after work’ and ‘beers’ and ‘sports bar’ so he took a leap of faith at the first chance he got and answered the question he really hoped he’d been asked.

“Sure. I’d like to grab a drink with you.”

It seemed as though that was the correct answer. Enzo grinned at him before reaching into his pocket and producing a business card.

“Call me, yeah?”

His hand lingered on Cass’s for a second as he handed it over, then with another whirling blur of colour and activity he was off on his way.

Cass turned back, suddenly remembering that had an audience. Carmella beamed happily at him and from beneath the dryer hood, Ms Carmichael gave him a thumbs up. She held out a hand to hold Carmella off for a moment before she turned the dryer on.

“I think you’d better get ready for a lot more cakes, Carmella dear.”


	6. Jeribrose - Happy Jeribrosiversary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a prompt, a little anniversary gift posted to my tumblr for the crew of the SS Jeribrose to celebrate 3 years since Brat & Sparkles's first match.

“ _Sierra...Hotel...India...Echo...Lima...Delta...Shield._ ”

Chris raised his head wearily, dragged from a very, very enjoyable dream where he was in the middle of giving his Best Metal Performance Grammy acceptance speech by the sound that although familiar was very definitely not his usual alarm.

Collapsing face first back onto his pillow he flailed around to his side, feeling about for either husband or phone to kill the noise, he didn’t care which as long as it shut up.

“Deeeeaaaaaan….”

The empty space beside him on the bed was cold under his touch.

“Dean?”

“Mornin’ Sparkles.”

Admitting defeat, Chris sat up and turning on the bedside lamp, looked towards the bedroom doorway, seeking out the source of his Brat’s voice. His eyes fell upon the perfect form of his husband, beautifully framed by the door trim. Dean held his phone in one hand, still blasting out the repetitive thud of Special Op.

“Jesus fuck Brat! What year is it again?”

It wasn’t the sound that made Chris question whether or not he’d slipped through a time vortex...it was the sight.

The sight of Dean, all in black.

Not just any black though. 

Dean, fully kitted out in his Shield combat gear. The black pants that showed off his ass, the tight black undershirt that clung to his muscled chest like a second skin and the tactical vest that emphasised his broad shoulders and trim, narrow waist. All topped off with that cocky, arrogant smirk that seemed permanently plastered to his handsome face in his days as a Hound of Justice and the slicked back hair that the fans had melted over.

“Still twenty sixteen babe, you might wanna check what day it is though…”

“Day? I know what day it is. It’s Thursday.”

Dean smirked and nodded in that universal gesture that could only mean ‘go on.’ Chris’s face was a picture of confusion for a moment until his still sleepy brain caught up.

“It’s the eighteenth. It’s February eighteenth.”

A wide grin spread across his face, mirrored by an equally wide smile on Dean’s own.

“February eighteenth...three years Brat. Three years since our first match.”

“Three years since a couple other things too babe…how about a rematch?”

Dean’s hands moved to the clasps on his vest, unsnapping them with such ease it would be easy to imagine he still wore it nightly. Freeing the bulky garment from his shoulders, he tossed it towards the bed, just shy of Chris’s feet. 

“Catch me, I might even let you make the pin this time.”

With a wink he spun on his heel, retreating back into the hallway, his black undershirt landing on the floor as he shot off down the hall, Chris jumping from the bed, wide awake now, following hot on his heels.


	7. Ambrollins - Asked a random stranger for help selecting a greeting card AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A 15 minute quick prompt issued by the glorious captainbigdickambrose on tumblr.

Dean looked over the vast array of shiny, glittery rainbow coloured cards, some with bows and things stuck on them, some with pins proudly proclaiming the birthday boy or girls age, and felt like screaming.

Why didn’t he take Roman up in his offer to pick him up a birthday card for Jojo when he’d offered, and why did he leave it to the last minute to get one as usual?

He knew that Jojo would love her gift anyway and that she probably wouldn’t even look at the card, but he couldn’t deal with yet another of his god daughter’s birthdays where one of Ro’s judgmental in-laws rolled their eyes at him again and mutter more loudly than they realised about Roman’s unfortunate loyalty to his shambolic best friend.

No. This year would be different. Perfect gift, perfect card and perfect happy Jojo.

“You can do this Ambrose! Come on!!”

He braced himself in front of the display and soon had his choice narrowed down to two, but he was unable to decide which of them was best. He taught high school phys ed, not kindergarten; what did he know about the preferences of little girls?

Glancing around the card store, he spied his salvation. A young woman with shoulder length wavy dark hair was staying with her back to him, looking over the display of World’s Best mugs. She was bound to have some sort of clue.

He approached and cleared his throat before speaking, not wanting to startle her.

“Excuse me ma'am, could you…”

His voice tailed off as the woman turned round.

“Ma'am?”

“Shit! Sorry dude! I was in a bit of a panic and thought you might be able to help…”

The dark haired, and bearded, man smiled, eyes warm and friendly.

“Hey…no problem. I’m no chick, but if I can help…”

“I need a birthday card for my niece and it’s got to be perfect and I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Your niece, eh? What age?”

“Seven.”

The man looked at the cards Dean was holding, then walked to the display before choosing another.

“This one. My buddy has a little girl the same age and she’s crazy for this cartoon.”

Dean sighed with relief, and then finally took a proper look at the guy.

“Thanks, man. You’ve just become my new hero.”

The helpful stranger blushed charmingly at the compliment, giving Dean just the little nudge of encouragement he needed.

“Look, I’ve got to get to a birthday party right now, but how about we meet later so I can buy you a drink and thank you properly? Name’s Dean by the way.”

The other man accepted his proffered handshake.

“Seth…and I’d like that. A lot.”


	8. Tyler Breeze/Xavier Woods - Night Flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My entry for the Wrassle Slash Library prompt contest on tumblr.
> 
> Prompt: Hey asshole quit kicking the back of my seat its a 10 hour flight.

Tyler peered out from behind the curtain that separated the galley from the main cabin, registering the call light flashing towards the centre of the economy section. 

His teammate Becky looked at him with pleading eyes as she continued to try to swipe at the mess spilled on her skirt courtesy of the young traveller in row twenty four who didn’t seem to understand how a sick bag worked.

“Fine. I’ll go.”

“Thanks Ty. You’re a doll.”

Quietly and efficiently he made his way through the darkened cabin, lights dimmed for the long night flight. He didn’t really mind the disruption, it broke up the long uneventful spell until they were due to serve breakfast.

Except on drawing closer to the source of the call, Tyler realised that actually in this case, he did mind.

The passenger who had summoned help was currently leaning into the aisle, waving frantically and grinning at Tyler’s approach,

Tyler sighed and turned on his professionally helpful smile, reaching up to turn off the call before bobbing down to address the young man.

“Good evening sir, how may I be of assistance?”

“I’m thirsty, could I get some water please?”

“Of course. Still or sparkling?”

“Still.”

Gracing the occupant of the seat with that professional smile once more, Tyler returned to the galley to collect a chilled bottle and delivered it to the passenger.

He had barely managed to return to the galley and grab himself a drink when the call bell chimed again.

Becky was off dealing with her vomiting guest again, so reluctantly, Tyler headed back into the cabin.

And back to the same passenger.

Who once again was leaning into the aisle and waving far too enthusiastically, his dark curls held back from his eyes by the sleep mask that most of the other people on the flight were making use of correctly.

“Yessss?”

Tyler’s smile was a little less professional this time, a little more of a grimace.

The passenger grinned up at Tyler, dimples forming on his cheek, brown eyes sparkling.

“Could I have another pillow? Pleeeeease?”

Tyler bobbed his head tersely.

“I’ll check to see if we have any extras sir.”

Pillow found and delivered, the next time the call sounded, Tyler had barely managed to make it back through the closed curtain. Becky, her previous passenger asleep at last and skirt quickly switched out for the spare in her carryon, volunteered to answer.

It was only a moment before she returned, laughing quietly to herself.

“Sorry Ty, he says he wants you…”

Huffing out an exasperated breath, Tyler flung back the curtain and marched down the aisleway once more, the professionally helpful smile a mere memory.

“What!?”

His voice as as harsh as it could be while still remaining a whisper. He rolled his eyes as the seated man jiggled about in his seat and peered up at him with puppydog eyes.

“Ty baby, you know I can’t sleep without my goodnight kiss…”

He wiggled around in his seat, feet catching against the back of the seat in front of him.

“Hey asshole! Quit kicking the back of my seat! This is a ten hour flight and I would like to sleep!”

Tyler quickly snapped into professional more, apologising to the disgruntled traveller before turning back to the source of the hassle, his nuisance of a boyfriend.

“Xavier! I am at work! I told you if you were going to use my staff perks, then you would have to behave…I should have known…”

Xavier pouted at Tyler and fluttered his eyelashes.

“Just one little kiss…then I’ll be an angel. Promise.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart.”

“Fine, but one more ding from you and I’ll stuff you in the overhead bin until breakfast.”

Crouching beside Xavier’s seat, he pressed his lips to the other man’s in a quick chaste kiss.

“Now go to sleep, Xavi.”

“Night night Ty.”

As he started back towards the galley, a hand shot out from the seat in front of Xavier, halting Tyler in his tracks.

“Got one of those goodnight kisses for me, cutie?”


	9. Shearrett - sick!fic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy Shearrett sick fic as, requested by bingbinghua. With bonus medicinal Lucozade.

“Wade? That you?”

Sheamus pushed his chair back as far as it would go, leaning back once the castors hit the door saddle to see what the noise in the hallway was. He leapt out of his chair and dashed out of his home office once he spied that the source of the commotion was indeed his partner. His very bleary eyed, miserable looking partner. He took his bag from him and guided him towards the living room with a gentle arm around his waist.

“No need to ask what you’re doing home at ten thirty? Let me guess, Drew took one look at you as soon as you arrived in the office and turned you straight around?”

Wade nodded pitifully as he lowered himself onto the sofa.

“I said you looked too ill to go in today, you should have just called him and stayed at home so I could look after you.”

“You’ve got your wish…’m all yours…”

He sneezed loudly, groaning as the movement rattled his already aching head. Sheamus laid a hand on the back of his neck, tutting at how hot Wade was running.

“Poor baby, you’re burning up. I know just what you need, but first, maybe you should change into something more comfortable. Think you can make it into the bedroom on your own?”

“I’ve got a cold, sweetheart, not two broken legs, I think I can struggle through.”

Struggle he did, but eventually he made it back to the sofa, wrapped up in sweatpants and one of Sheamus’s sweatshirts and a pair of thick socks. He slumped back down on the sofa waiting for Sheamus to join him. He emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later, laden down like the donkey in a game of Buckaroo, a hot water bottle tucked under one arm, a bottle of something under the other, a blanket flung across his shoulders and a mug, plate of toast and box of tissues in a precarious pile in his arms. He tipped the blanket onto Wade's legs and handed him the cup and plate.

“Here we go, darlin’, buttery mashed egg in a cup, toast and Lucozade. Feed a cold, right? That’s what my mam used to give me when I was a little fella if I was sick and had to stay off school.”

Wade looked over from where he was already busy spooning egg onto his toast. 

“Mine too. I’ve not had this for ages though. Oh my god...I forgot how good it was...where did we get the Lucozade from by the way? I didn’t even think they still made the original stuff. Shame it’s not the glass bottle, that’s the real medicinal stuff.”  
They sat on the sofa, Sheamus scooping Wade’s sock clad feet up onto his lap and massaging them, while Wade polished off his egg and toast, the pair comparing their childhood sick day memories, seeing how things differed on either side of the Irish Sea.

“What? Your mum let you watch cartoon videos? Mine made me watch the school’s programmes.”

Wade pouted at Sheamus as he stood to take away the sick man’s empty plate. His boyfriend laughed at his huffy expression, bobbing down to kiss his clammy forehead.

“Poor Wade, so hard done by. Want me to tell your mam off for being too strict with you whenever we’re round there for dinner next?”

“Christ no! She’d give both of us a clip round the ear!”

Returning from the kitchen, Sheamus sat at the other end of the sofa, lifting his arm so Wade could lay his head in his lap, laying it gently over his side once he had made himself comfortable. He picked up the tv channel in his free hand.

“Discovery channel or cartoons?”

“I don’t understand kids cartoons these days...they make me feel old and confused. I’m too sick to feel old and confused…”

“Aha, but guess who just so happened to download the entire first series of Thundercats last week? Oh yes, that would be me.”

“Proper Thundercats?”

“Proper Thundercats. I loved that cartoon, used to drive my mam mad running round yelling HO!”

“I loved it too...Lion-o was my favourite. Think I’ve always had a bit of a soft spot for big ginger idiots…”

He smirked up at Sheamus, who squeezed his hand and grinned back.

“...and don’t I thank my lucky stars every damn day that you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those not familiar with Lucozade, it's a sugary glucose drink, long believed to be of benefit to the sick. That sickness could be a cold, a broken leg, appendicitis, anything - Lucozade would help. To get the true medical benefits though, it must be the original flavour, preferably in the glass bottle!


	10. Dean Ambrose - The Auction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 15 minute prompt from captainbigdickambrose on tumblr "Hmmmm….somebody enters me into a date auction for charity n’ I ain’t all that happy ‘bout it…until a real intense biddin’ war erupts for me ;)"

“Dean. You’re up…and for the love of God, smile!”

Becky gave him a hefty shove out onto the stage, where his boss Daniel was waiting.

“…and here we have our final brave volunteer, the pride of the features team, Dean!”

The room filled with riotous applause and cheers, a few wolf whistles coming from the tables near the back where the art team were sat.

Dean plastered a smile on his face, silently cursing Becky for putting him forward for their magazine’s staff fundraising night’s date auction. He gave the room full of his drunken colleagues and their guest a quick wave as Daniel ran through his selling points, the list clearly furnished by Becky who was sniggering away as their boss informed the room of Dean’s fictional massage and cake making skills.

“Time to open the bidding then. Who’s going to start me off?”

For a moment Dean felt his heart stop, this was it, no one was going to even want to bid on him. He was going to kill Becky.

“Two hundred.”

The voice was deep and masculine. Two hundred wasn’t bad. It was twice as much as the last highest starting bid had been that night.

“Two fifty.”

That bid came from Alexa on the art team, her gaggle of teammates egging her on.

“Three hundred.”

“Looks like we have a bit of a bidding war on our hands here folks. Remember, this is all for a good cause. Every penny we raise tonight will go to our charity of the year.”

Daniel kept the bidding moving quickly, bouncing between Alexa and the hidden male voice, obscured from view at the back of the room. Soon it reached four figures.

“One thousand three fifty.”

“One thousand four hundred.”

The man countered Alexa’s bid once again. There was a flurry of chatter around the art tables. Dean watched the nodding and muttering from the stage, already surprised by the price he had reached. Dolph hadn’t even raised that much and he was a real crowd pleaser at the auction every year.

“Two thousand!”

Alexa beamed around smugly at the rest of the room, the belief that no one would be able to top her bid written clearly on her dainty face. It didn’t last long though, wiped away by the loud clear bid from the back of the room.

“Ten thousand dollars.”

You could have heard a pin drop. Daniel looked back over to Alexa who shook her head and turned back to her friends.

“Alrighty then, looks like we have a winning bidder. If you’d like to come to the side of the stage you can collect your prize.”

As Daniel carried on with his host duties, introducing the next portion of the night’s entertainment, Dean moved to the side of the platform towards Becky. She was stood next to a tall, handsome silver haired man, unable to supress a grin at his approach.

“Here you are Deano. I always knew you were worth a million dollars. Ready to meet your date?

The man offered his hand to Dean and smiled warmly.

“The name’s Shane, nice to meet you…”


	11. Ambreigns - First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little something that grew from CBD's question on tumblr - Where do y'all think me n’ Romie bang banged for the first time? GUESS!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2nd person POV & more conversational than most of my fics due to the way it began.

The first time for you and Roman happened at your old place in Florida, not long before the Shield debuted on the main roster. 

You’d been out working the house shows and he’d been down at NXT. You were catching up over a few beers, sharing stories...and lingering looks when you each thought the other wouldn’t notice. Turns out that absence really does make the heart grow fonder and after spending so much time around each at FCW, you had missed each other. A couple of drinks and the sheer joy at being in each other’s company again made you bolder and when a few drunk rowdy women started trying to hit on the pair of you after your second beer, heading back yours…it was closer than his…to carry on your own carousing seemed like a good idea.

Except there wasn’t much carousing. Not once you had brushed up against each other a few times on the walk from the bar, and once Roman had pulled you right in probably a little closer than was _absolutely_ necessary to let that lady walking her dog pass you by on the sidewalk.

You made it as far as the couch.

Your apartment was empty when you got there, and freezing cold. Cass had left the aircon cranked as high as it could go before he headed out. _Again_. You would have to have a word with him about that. You set it to something more civilized and grabbed two beers from the refrigerator. 

Roman was was already making himself comfortable on the couch, you handed him his beer, apologised for the arctic conditions and offered to go grab him an extra hoodie, but he just told you to sit your ass down in that commanding way of his and pulled you down beside him. 

So close that you were almost on top of him. 

You tried to shuffle away to give him a little space, but he just slung an arm around you and tucked you into his side. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t take too long for you to warm up after that.

You sipped your beer and talked, and wondered did Roman stroking his fingertips up and down the side of your neck mean anything. You thought that you wouldn’t really mind if it did. When you thought a little more, it had been a pretty nice date…you had a few beers with a very attractive man, you enjoyed his company, he walked you home, came in for a nightcap and now he was sitting on your couch with his arm around you. The you laughed at yourself for thinking that way, and when Roman asked what was so funny, you decided to tell him that you’d clearly watched too many dumb romance movies in the hotel on the last loop and about your stupid date thoughts and how ridiculous it was. After all, better to make a joke at your own expense than risk a friendship over a daydream.

Except Roman didn’t laugh. He half turned to face you and asked why would it be so ridiculous. You didn’t really have an answer for that other than flapping hand gestures and a guffaw that was minimum 95% bravado. 

Roman grabbed your flapping arms and started to tell you why he thought it would be the opposite of ridiculous. He told you, in clear unmistakable words, that he had missed you…your wit, the serious look in your eyes when you were hanging on the coaches every word in training sessions, the glint in your eyes when you were messing about entertaining everyone with your impressions, your dimples…

Then he told you how often he’d thought about you…about getting his hands around your absurd waist, about wrapping your long legs around his own waist or over his shoulders… _that’s_ when your dick decided to start paying attention, and simply how much he’d thought about kissing you…

To this day neither of you are sure if he lifted you onto his lap, or you climbed there yourself, or which of you actually made the move, but the next thing you knew, you were kissing. 

It was far more intense than your little fleeting fantasy had been, your hands splaying through his hair, his creeping underneath the waistband of your jeans and settling on your ass. He pulled you forward, deepening the kiss, giving you the perfect opportunity to grind your hard cock against his.

You kissed some more, rocking against each other until feeling the heat and hardness of him through his jeans suddenly wasn’t enough. 

You untangled your hands from his hair and wedged them into the tiny space between you, frantically scrabbling at his belt and fly until both were undone and you could wrap your fingers around his length. It felt good in your hand, but you knew it would feel better inside you. If you needed any more confirmation from Roman that he was on the same page, aside from the fierce kissing and the bucking up into your hand, you definitely got it when his thick finger brushed over your hole, dragging a little on the dry skin.

At once Roman’s lips were gone from yours and his hands gone from your pants, but only for as long as it took him to get rid of both your hoodies and shirts. You barely managed to get your extremely affirmative answer to his growled enquiry if you were sure about this out before you found yourself flipped over onto your back with Roman between your legs.

There was kicking and wriggling and more scrabbling until you both managed to get rid of your jeans and shoes and underwear…even some almost falling off the couch when Roman stretched for his jeans, fumbling around until he fished his wallet from a pocket, winking down at you ridiculously when he produced a condom and a single serve sachet of lube. You didn’t think for a moment that they had been there just for you, but you sure were glad he had them handy.

It didn’t take Roman long to stretch you…you didn’t expect it to. You knew you would still be a little loose from your lazy jerk off session in the shower before you got ready to go meet him. His thick fingers felt divine as they stroked your inner walls and swept over your prostate, but it wasn’t enough. You needed his dick.

He called you greedy and impatient, no malice in his words, only fondness, as he eventually pressed the fat head of his cock to your pucker, pushing in teasingly slowly despite your pleading. You called him an ass, your tone making it sound like the sweetest pet name.

Roman took full advantage of your flexibility, draping your legs over his shoulders as he built up a heady pace, hitting your sweet spot with each pounding thrust. You were both loud, relative silence only falling when you felt your orgasm near, one hand snaking between you to work your cock, your other hand snaking around the back of Roman’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss that swallowed your moans.

You came first, spurts of white coating your hand and stomach, Roman’s too, visible to you when he reared up, chasing his own climax, hands around your ankles spreading you wide as he slammed into you a few final times.

Spent, aftershocks subsided, he gently lowered your legs and pulled out, the rippling movements of his arms telling you that he was dealing with the business of the condom. 

The couch was narrow and you would need to clean up soon, move things to the bedroom and a talk about what this meant for your friendship and this new stable the office had mentioned was definitely on the horizon but for now you were more than happy to tuck yourself into Roman when he lay down beside you, pulling you close, big strong arms holding you tight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The original tumblr version can be found [here](https://sortofgetit.tumblr.com/post/165311274232/sortofgetit-captainbigdickambrose-where-do) \- a few minor tweaks have been made before posting here, mainly formatting & punctuation.


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